I'm Not Okay
by Kovukono
Summary: A lion stalks a lioness, his wishes plainly homicidal. Fortunately for her, he's given therapy.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is the finished version of the story. No further editing will be done, unless I completely snap and feel that there's something wrong with it (other than the obvious part that's very wrong with it). Many thanks to Ochi for helping the story get this far. Enjoy.**

oOo

**I****'****m Not Okay**

I licked my lips in anticipation as I watched Ushairi from the grass. She was drinking water with that tongue of hers, how it flicked in and out and in. Just like a snake's. In and out and in, as her ears twitched, listening.

Of course, she wouldn't hear me. She never did. _Smell_ me, that might be something that she'd do. She'd done that a few times. But she'd never hear me. She never did. Not with those little twitching ears. And that little flicking tongue.

Honestly, the desire to rape her had never been stronger. But that would be unacceptable. There was too much on the line to give into a desire like that. Rape would undoubtedly mean exile, maybe even execution. Right now, they had no reason. I simply had to control that particular desire.

In and out and in and out. I felt my own tongue following hers. I began to slowly creep toward her. She stopped drinking. She knew I was here. I felt my breathing become heavier in anticipation. I broke my cover, leaping at her, hearing her scream. I tackled her into the water and licked her chest in wild bestiality.

Of course, she had no reservations as she whacked me across the face, I'm sure of that. Maybe one or two as she kicked me in the throat, but I doubt it. She tried to get up and run, but I leapt at her again, wrapping my forelegs around her waist, just above her hind legs. I went numb as I realized the position I was in, and the _power_ I had. She slipped out of my grasp in that brief moment of weakness.

I collapsed into the shallow water, then looked up at her. She was on the other side of the shore already, and was screaming obscenities at me. I couldn't quite comprehend them, but I got the general idea of disgust. She turned and ran into the grass.

I laughed quietly as I got out of the water and shook myself dry. I wasn't going to run after her. That wouldn't be satisfying. I'd had enough for now; I'd just wait until next time. I knew there'd be a next time. There was always a next time.

oOo

Of course, I knew the words that would be coming out of Arezo's mouth before he even said them. It was the same thing he always said when he found me soaking wet, or covered in thorns, or dirty and dusty, or with any injury on me at all.

"You did it again?"

Of course, he was normally right about it. "Yeah," I said. "I did it again."

"You've got to stop that," he said seriously, the same as he always did. "One of these days something's going to—"

"Something's going to happen I regret, I know."

"I'm serious," he said. "I'm just a prince. Not the heir. There's not a thing that I can do to stop you getting kicked out. And might I remind you," he said, his voice becoming annoyed as I scratched my ear hard, apparently not paying attention. He was half-right about that, "that it's the prince's _chosen mate_ that you're messing around with."

"You don't know if he's going to marry Ushairi or not," I said, lying down. I could care less what the son of a bitch did to her. Or with her. He'd never stop me.

"I know I want to be there when he beats you down. I'd be the only one in the whole pride that'd probably even try to stop your death. And that's _exactly_ what it's going to end up as. He's going to kill you, all because of that . . ."

"Fantasy? Obsession?"

"Obsession, I guess. Either that, or he'll get you kicked out. And there won't be a thing I can do about either."

"So you say."

"Look, seriously, why don't you just give it up?"

"You ask that every time," I said, bored with the topic.

"I _mean_ it." He sighed. "I wonder if anyone else who has a nut-job for a friend has this problem."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I asked testily.

"You know you're not normal."

I rolled onto my back as I grunted in assent. I could agree with that statement easily. I knew I wasn't normal. That didn't mean that I'd try to do anything about it, though. "Really," I said, "is there any problem with being like me?"

"Shujaa, it's just not nice to do what you're doing to Ushairi. One of these days, one of you is going to really get hurt. I don't want that to happen."

"Yeah, yeah, spare me the crap."

"Just _try_ to stop," he said for the umpteenth time. "Please."

"I can't," I said. "I have to do it."

"Why?"

"I—I just have to. You don't know what she's like, Arezo. She needs this just as much as I do, I know it." I felt myself trembling as I thought of Ushairi.

"She's an ordinary lion, just like me and—well, like me."

"But gods, what she _does_ to me . . ."

"Shujaa, it's all in your head. That's all."

"Does that mean it isn't real?"

"Uh, _yeah_."

It doesn't mean it isn't real. I know it doesn't mean it isn't real. It has to be real. If it isn't real . . . well, if it isn't real, what is?

I still remember the first time I did that to her. We were just cubs. I caught her near a pond, just like I did today. She wasn't expecting it at all. I took her head and plunged it underneath the water. She almost immediately got out from underneath my body and my paws, but a second later I had strengthened it, and back down she went. She stayed down until she stopped moving.

I pushed her out of the water and pushed on her chest once or twice, trying to get the water out. After that I just sat back and watched. If what I was doing wasn't helping, why do it? She finally sputtered awake and began gasping down air. I grinned. I hadn't killed her. She turned to me and immediately began to yell at me, using a whole variety of words that I was sure her mother hadn't taught her.

I just sat there, grinning. I knew she wanted it. She wanted it every time. To be strangled, shoved, cut, drowned. She needed it, just like I did. We had to do it. It had to be this way. If it wasn't this way . . . There was no point in thinking about that. It had to be this way.

"Hello? Shujaa?" I suddenly realized that I had been daydreaming. Arezo was waving his paw in front of my face. "You there?"

"Don't be stupid," I said.

"I said, 'Are you hungry?'"

"A little. I can wait."

"They're not hunting tomorrow. No one's hunting until the day after, I think."

I considered it. I wasn't that hungry, but I wasn't sure if I could stand the wait until the next day. If I gorged today, I should be fine. "Alright. Who's hunting where today?"

"Let me think . . . Shani's night hunting, I think, if you can wait until then."

I frowned, thinking. "Sure. Why not?" I turned onto my side. "I can wait that long."

oOo

As I walked into the den, I could feel plenty of eyes flick over to me. They did every time that I walked in, as if they couldn't help but notice my greatness. Of course, they thought I was filth. They didn't see all that I could be, all that I _was_. Ushairi, of course, didn't seem to appreciate that part of me at all. I don't know why. It had to be this way, me and her. It had to be.

She wasn't in the den. Neither was Aushi. The scumbag was probably off comforting the "love of his life" after evil Shujaa had attacked poor, helpless Ushairi. He didn't understand me, but I understood him all too well. He was filth. The pride should have looked at him like they did me, and given me the praise and honor they gave the stupid prince. They didn't understand either of us.

I lied down in my corner of the den. They always left it vacant for me. At least they gave me that much respect. It wasn't fair, I knew that. I should have more space than a measly corner. I should have had all the room that King Janja had. It should have been me in that space in the back of the den.

Of course, I have nothing against the good king. Don't assume that for a moment. Long live King Janja. It's not his fault that he has so many privileges that should also be mine. He had them thrust upon them, unlike that asshole Aushi who strode around like he deserved every last bit of prestige and privilege he got.

I lied down and closed my eyes, listening to the dull roar that was the speech of the den. It was soothing to let it wash over me, like a stream washing over a rock, leaving it unchanged and still there even after the stream has dried up forever. I very nearly drifted off to sleep. Then I heard someone calling my name.

"Shujaa."

My eyes opened to see a masculine set of legs in front of me. I looked up to see King Janja. "Sire," I said.

"I understand that you attacked Ushairi again today," he said gravely.

"If you want to call it that."

King Janja hesitated. He finally said, "Would you mind walking with me? I'd prefer to talk about this privately."

"Sure." I got up and walked out of the den, following the king. The king finally stopped next to a nearby waterhole. I sat down and waited for him to talk.

"Shujaa," he said, "this has to stop."

"What, sire?"

"Your tormenting of Ushairi."

"Why?"

"Because it—Shujaa," he said softly, "you're forcing Ushairi to live through something very, very horrible. She hates what you're doing to her. She's told me. It has to stop."

"Sire, it can't stop."

"Why not?"

"We have to do this. She needs this."

King Janja sighed and looked down into the waterhole. This was a waste of my time. I should have known he was going to drag me down here for this. Now he was probably going to give me some kind of lecture about the "goodness in me" and "looking deep down inside" and shit like that. I was pretty tempted to walk away.

"Shujaa," said the king, "I'm not sure she needs it. I think it's you who needs it."

"Sire, I know she needs it."

The king turned to me and placed a paw gently on the back of my neck. "Shujaa, I think you're sick. I want to help you get better."

"I'm fine, sire," I said, annoyed. That was the exact word that Aushi always used for me. Sick. Gods, how I hated that word. Of course, I had to be lenient for King Janja. I'm sure he didn't know what he was saying.

King Janja shook his head. "No, Shujaa, I don't think you are. I know you've had a—a less-than-ideal life. I know you lost your mother at a very early age. Maybe that's what started it all. I don't know. But Shujaa, I have to stop this between you and Ushairi. For both your sakes."

"You can't stop it," I said, forgetting the "sire" in my anger. That he—the king, of all animals—that he thought that he could play with my life—it was laughable. The king couldn't stop me. He couldn't even try. But that he thought he could—that was unacceptable.

"Shujaa, I know that this is going to be difficult for you."

"You have no idea what you're doing to Ushairi," I said furiously. "None."

King Janja paused. "Is that a threat?" he said quietly.

"She _needs_ this, sire. She _needs_ it."

King Janja frowned. "Shujaa, you don't understand your actions," he said gently.

"I know perfectly well what I'm doing."

"You could hurt Ushairi very badly."

"She'll never get hurt," I said.

"I can't trust you on that," said King Janja. "I have to give you two options. I need you to stop this. I'm not ordering you to do this as king, but as—as a friend."

"You're not Arezo."

"I know. But I'm his father. I hope that'd count for something."

"You're not Arezo. You're not my friend."

"Well then, I'm asking you this as me. Lion to lion. Please, stop what you're doing to Ushairi."

"I can't, sire."

"Alright, then," sighed King Janja. "You don't give me any choice. I want you to go to the shaman tomorrow."

"I'm not ill, sire."

"She's going to try to help you, Shujaa."

"With what? I'm perfectly fine."

"Shujaa, you're not well—"

"The only thing I'm not is normal!" I said, my temper flaring up again. "And I don't want to be, either!"

"Shujaa, please. It's for the best. She can help you."

"Sire, you can't stop me!"

"Yes, Shujaa, I can," said the king. "But I don't want it to come to that. I want you to go to the shaman tomorrow."

"No," I said firmly.

"If you don't, I'll have to exile you." I couldn't believe this. He thought he should actually give me orders. The nerve of him. "And if you resist exile at all, I'd have to have you killed." The _nerve_ of him. "I'm sorry, Shujaa, but you've left me with no other choice. I can't ignore this any longer."

I stared at him defiantly. He thought he should actually tell me what to do. This was inconceivable. It was an outrage.

"Please, Shujaa. I don't want to have to send a member of my pride away. Just go to the shaman tomorrow. Please."

I said nothing in my fury. He stood up and walked back to the den. Gods, I was angry. Someone was going to have to pay for all of this. And this time, it wouldn't be me.

oOo

I walked over to Arezo and stood in front of him. He was busy talking to Umo. He looked up at me and said, "Yes?"

"I want to talk to you."

"Sure," he said. "Sit down."

"Alone."

"Can this wait?" he asked, looking back over at Umo. She was, of course, looking at me like I was some kind of disgusting _thing_. Everyone had that look for me, even if they tried to hide it. She didn't appreciate what I did for her, and probably never would.

"No," I said. "We need to talk."

Arezo sighed. "Fine. Let's make it fast." He got up and headed out of the den, me following him impatiently. He finally stopped at the same watering hole that King Janja had left me at. "Now what was so important that it had to drag me away from Umo?"

"King Janja wants me to see the shaman tomorrow."

"That's it? That's what you drug me all the way out here—gods!"

"If I don't go, he'll kill me."

"Oh, stop being melodramatic—"

"If I don't go, he'll exile me. And if I resist—and I will—he'll kill me."

Arezo stared at me, stunned. "You're not joking?" he said quietly.

"No."

"What do you expect me to do? If Dad's said something like that, there's no way I can change his mind."

"I do _not_ need to go see some fool and be told that I'm—wrong inside."

"Shujaa," said Arezo quietly, "you're not normal—"

"_And is that wrong?!_" I demanded. "The sacrifices I make for you, for all of you, every day—"

"Shujaa, please, don't get started on that."

"It makes me _sick_ to think that he even has the right to tell me what to do! Who does he think he is? A god?!"

"He's the king, Shujaa. And he can kill you. Or exile you. I've been over this."

"He should consider himself _blessed_ to have someone in this kingdom like me!"

"Shujaa, he sees things differently. Now look, just go to the shaman. I don't know what you want me to do, but I'm not going to even try to talk him out of this. You just need to go tomorrow. Maybe it won't be what you think it is."

"I'm in perfect health," I growled. "What do you _think_ it is?"

"Look, just go. Maybe it's for the best. And besides, if you don't go . . . well, I don't want to see a friend die, Shujaa."

"Fine," I said bitterly. "Just—go back to Umo."

"Thank you," he said. He got up, and I was left alone at the waterhole for the second time that day.

oOo

It was a dream. I knew that as soon as I woke up and remembered it. It was too perfect to be any memory. So wonderful, so full of ecstasy.

It was by a waterhole, and there, standing on the edge, her back turned to me, was Ushairi. I rushed toward her, and she turned toward me and screamed. I tackled her into the waterhole and dragged her down, hearing her scream suddenly silenced by the water. I clamped down my jaws on her neck and strangled her, feeling her thrash underneath me.

She knocked me off with a paw and tried to swim back toward the surface. I dug my claws into her flanks and pulled her further down. I swung my paw toward her chest and punched into it, feeling her body break under my strength. Her blood began to rush out of her as her heart continued to pump. She tried to give her anguish sound, but the water drowned out all noise that she could make.

I clamped my jaws around her neck again and squeezed, feeling her thrashing increase, until it finally began to slow, and then she didn't move. I let go, and watched her sink down into the depths of the water, her mouth open, gasping for air that would never, ever come; her eyes wide from pain; her chest trailing a stream of blood down behind her. I grinned as I saw her go deeper and deeper, down to where it was so dark I couldn't even see her anymore.

When I woke up, I smiled, remembering the dream. I tried to go over it again, but found that the more I tried, the less I retained. It slipped away, my mind being unable to remember. There was one thing that didn't escape me though: her desperate, gasping face as she sank down to the depths, leaving only her blood behind to diffuse into the water.

oOo

A few of the lionesses had left the den, me staying behind. Ushairi had been one of the ones that had left. I knew what she was thinking. It was better to leave and be safe than stay and hope that I might leave. She didn't know that I had to leave today, though.

I sighed and rolled over. I suddenly found King Janja's head over mine. "Good morning, Shujaa," he said. "Sleep well?"

"Maybe," I said, rolling onto my side so I wouldn't have to stare at him.

"The shaman is waiting for you. She's a very busy leopard. It isn't really polite to keep her waiting."

I said nothing.

King Janja turned and walked back to his mate. I continued to lie there, weighing my options. I could die, or I could humiliate myself. I honestly didn't know which one I would hate more.

Arezo had said to go. He was my friend; I was supposed to value his opinion. I did, most of the time. But to think I had a problem . . . I knew perfectly well what I was doing. I wasn't a head-case like the king thought I was. He didn't understand what I did for him, for his precious mate, for his filthy son.

And he wasn't even punishing Ushairi for going along with this. She suffered, just like me, but he had no problem at all with _her_ suffering. It was unfair beyond all belief. You'd almost think it wasn't obvious that she had _volunteered_ for the whole thing.

And I was going to have to reduce myself to the level of being placed under scrutiny by a leopardess? This was beyond belief. Humiliation or death. Someone in my position should never have been forced to make that kind of choice. I could somewhat understand my lack of privileges, but this . . . this was insanity.

I got up and headed for the exit of the den. I heard, just before I left, "Shujaa."

I didn't bother to turn to look at the king. "Yes, sire."

"Where are you going?"

"Water."

"Shujaa."

"Yes, sire?"

"If you don't go, don't bother coming back." I heard the seriousness in his voice. I also heard sadness that he had been "driven" to this choice. I didn't bother to respond. I just walked out.

oOo

When I got to the shaman's den, I was still kicking myself for doing this. But this would be fast. Just a one-time thing. Come here, be told I was crazy, leave, and I could forget all about this. It was worth it to continue. Ushairi couldn't live without me.

The shaman looked up as I approached her den. She looked back down at whatever she was doing as she saw me approach. I couldn't see; she had her back turned to me. She was about the average size for a leopardess. A little larger than normal, maybe; around the size of a lioness. All in all, she looked ordinary.

I walked into her den and approached her. Small piles of leaves and herbs were around the walls of her den, neatly arranged. "You know," she said as I came closer, "it's considered good manners to ask before you enter another animal's home." She turned around to look at me. "You must be Shujaa. The king said you'd be coming in sometime today."

"Let's just get this over with."

"Get what over with?" she asked politely.

So she was going to play that game. I sure wasn't. She just stared at me for a second, then continued on with what she was doing. I moved to get a better view and sat down. She was trying to do something with a rock and a plant.

"What are you doing?"

"My assistant, Mala, you must know him, he's decided to take the day off. He's sick again. Just about as believable as me having wings, but what do you expect from a newlywed? So I've got to do my grinding myself today. I think I've about got the hang of it."

Honestly, it looked like she was getting nowhere with that leaf, other than mashing it into a pulp.

"Thank goodness we're just short on d'ron. Barely ever have a call for it." She stopped, and looked back up at me. "So why are you here? You seem healthy enough."

"Great. Then we're done here," I said, getting up to leave.

"The king wouldn't have sent you here unless he believed it was necessary." Her voice had gained an edge. "So you can stop right there. Now, what's wrong with you?"

"You expect me to believe he hasn't told you?" I asked, irritated.

"Oh, he's told me. But I'd like to hear what you think it is." She left her leaf and rock and moved over toward the center of the den. She lied down as she said, "Come here, go ahead and lay down."

I did so. "He had me come here because he thinks I'm crazy."

"Are you?"

"No, I damn well am not."

"Well, why does he think you are?"

"Because of—of what I do for the world."

The shaman leaned back. "Maybe you'd better explain this from the beginning. Might want to make yourself comfortable." She sprawled out on her side, hind legs sticking out while her forelegs were firmly on the ground. I don't know what I was expecting, but not that.

"I—I suffer so you don't have to."

"How?" she asked curiously.

"Look," I said, irritated, "I don't have to tell you everything about my life—"

"You do. And besides, I really think you want to tell _someone_, don't you?"

"I can tell Arezo."

"Humor me," she said, that edge back in her voice.

I knew this was a waste of time. I was going to have to do it anyway. "I—I murder Ushairi."

"Ushairi?"

"A lioness. And I do it over and over. So you won't have to worry."

"About what?"

"About guilt. About regret. About any of that."

She stared at me, obviously not quite understanding. "I think you need to start from the _very_ beginning."

"And how am I supposed to do that?"

"When did you start this? An animal, maybe? A place?"

I frowned. I didn't have to tell her everything. "My—mother. My mother was a murderer. She killed another lioness. She drowned her. I don't know why; they had some fight, and Mom drowned her in front of me. And she was—just so _scared_ after it. She kept on stroking me and telling me she loved me and doing everything she could to show she wasn't scared at all. And it just made it more obvious.

"And the next day came, and the lioness was missing, and Mom 'fessed up. And the den was all so scared of her, and the king ordered her execution for the next day. So she spent one last night with me, and spent most of it awake and crying. And I asked her if it wasn't better, all of it, just to have someone suffer for you, for everyone. Have them do the crying and all that. And she said that yes, that would really be a wonderful thing.

"Course, next day she died. She was given too much of some herb, and they said it was quick and painless. Course, from the way her eyes were rolling, you'd sure think it wasn't. But a few days after that, I started with Ushairi. I could be that animal, I thought. No one could ever have to worry again.

"And then it all began to make more and more sense. What is the worst act that you could think of? Killing. So that's what I had to do. I could kill. And one murder, that could take care of so many little bad acts, and everyone could be happy, and not have to worry. But I would feel their pain.

"And then I realized something else. I was only half of it. Because you see, when I started with Ushairi—she wanted to help me. I asked for help, and she said yes, and we did it. And she knew the importance. I was taking care of the punisher, but what about the victim? Didn't they need someone?

"And she just kept on presenting herself for it more and more. And I knew then that I had to do it. That _we_ had to do it. For all of you. I needed to do this. And she did. I want it more than anything. I know she feels the same way."

"It sounds like a pretty heavy task," she said.

"It's a thankless task," I said bitterly.

"No one believes you, do they?"

"No. They think I'm trying to kill Ushairi."

"Well, I have to admire your persistence," she said. She rolled fully onto her stomach. "Especially considering the lack of rewards. Just—just curiosity, what do _you_ think you deserve?"

"You have no idea," I said. "Gods, it's so unfair. The things I do, and I get _nothing_. _Nothing_."

"I see." She sat up. "I don't think you're insane," she said. I practically purred with contentment. I may have even felt a little growl escape me. _Justice_. "But," she said, "I do want you to come back again. The king will tell you when."

"What for?" I asked suspiciously.

"To talk."

"About?" I growled.

"You."

I knew what she meant. _You're not crazy, but come back and I'll cure you_. "I'm _not_ crazy," I said angrily. I felt my temper flaring up again.

"You're most definitely not normal," she said. "The king will tell you when to come back."

"I'm not coming back," I growled as I headed for the exit.

"I thought you two had a deal," she said. "You be a good boy, and he doesn't rip your face off." I looked around with a snarl. "The threat will still stand," she said. I could see a smirk crossing her face. "I'll expect you back soon."

I didn't say another word. I stormed out of the den. Even _she_ was blackmailing me.


	2. Chapter 2

I was fairly surprised to see the shaman come to the lions' den the next day.I was lying outside the den as I watched her go in. I'm sure she noticed me. She had to have. I was lying right there. But she didn't even glance at me as she marched right into the den.

"Sire," I heard her say.

"Yes? Oh, Vessa, hello. I assume this is about Shujaa?" That was the king talking. He was the only one inside. Everyone else was conveniently gone. If the king said he wanted privacy, he'd get it. I gave a derisive _hmph_ of laughter as I heard his comment. They'd undoubtedly be "deciding my future."

"Yes. I don't want to have him as a—patient."

"Why not?"

"I don't think he'd be that responsive to what I could do."

"You haven't tried anything yet. Believe me, Vessa, this is the last option. I've tried everything to try to get Shujaa to leave Ushairi alone. Nothing's worked."

"Sire, I heal wounds. Physical things. I don't heal minds."

"Have you ever tried?"

"No. And that's exactly why I don't think this will work. I think that I'm not going to have any impact at all on Shujaa. If anything, I'll make it worse. He has a horribly amplified superiority complex, an obsession with death, a lust to make his chosen victim die over and over again—and he thinks that it isn't wrong at all to feel like he does.

"

"He should have been punished long ago. If it weren't for my son, he would have been."

"So punish him, sire. Don't put him through this."

"Isn't the saying 'The first step to overcoming you have a problem is admitting you have one'? Make him admit that he has a problem with killing."

"Sire, it doesn't work that way. For Shujaa, it's not just admitting there's a problem. He has to know that the problem even exists. He sees no reason why he shouldn't be allowed to molest Ushairi. He doesn't feel guilty at all about it."

"Then make him feel guilty. Please, Vessa, just find some way to stop this—madness. I don't want to have to resort to other options."

"Sire, I can't guarantee anything. I'm trying to be honest."

"I want you to do what you can," said King Janja. "Anything to help. I mean it, Vessa."

"Fine," said the shaman. I could hear a bite in her voice. "Send him by in a couple of days. I'm busy now."

"In two days."

The shaman marched out of the den, not even waiting to be excused. I smiled slightly at that. I don't quite know why. All I could tell was that she wasn't completely pleased with the way the meeting had gone. I closed my eyes and decided to take a nap.

oOo

A couple of days later King Janja asked me to go back. He made it perfectly clear that his threat still stood until I was cured. He didn't come right out and say it; it was "until the shaman thinks you've improved enough." I could almost imagine the little gleam of amusement in his eyes as he said it. I was beginning to realize where some of Aushi's idiot genes came from.

I dragged myself over to the shaman's the next day. She was inside, alone, lying on the floor. Apparently "Mala" hadn't come back, but he had bothered to restock what supplies of herbs she had that were dwindling. The pile of what she said was d'ron was bigger than it was last time, at least, along with several other piles.

"Let's get some rules straight," she said as I came in and sat down sullenly. "You do what I say. You don't do anything to this den or anything in it without permission. And you most certainly aren't going to be here when you're not supposed to be."

So she was going to act the tough girl. "You could just say I'm fine and let me go."

She chuckled bitterly. "And get you sent right back when you haven't changed a bit? I don't want to do this. It's one of the last things on my list. But you're here, and you're going to leave this place for good only when you're socially acceptable by _my_ standard."

"Alright," I said, "cure me. Give me the herb or whatever and send me on my way." I lied down, irritated and not afraid to show it.

"It's not that easy. We're going to have to talk."

"About what?"

"I don't know." She sighed, obviously frustrated. "I've thought for two days, and I don't know. I don't know enough about you."

"Then what do you expect me to do?"

She shook her head, thinking hard. "Just—just stay here."

"How long?"

"As long as it takes. Neither of us are going to like it."

"Fine," I grumbled. I didn't have any other choice. I laid my head down moodily. Neither of us said another word that day. We were left alone. Near sundown, I finally got up and left, hearing her say the first words since we spoke earlier.

"One last rule: Stay away from Ushairi." I turned around and snarled at her. She glared back at me. "You're going to stay away from her," she said coldly.

"Like hell," I growled, walking out of the den. She couldn't control me. None of them could.

oOo

"How do you feel?" King Janja asked as I walked into the den.

I scowled at him.

"Ah," he said, realizing that I obviously wasn't up to his expectations yet.

"You're the one always preaching patience, sire. Use some." I moodily walked over to my corner of the den and curled up.

oOo

A few more days went by, me going back to the shaman's den every day. Then a few more went by, and, just for the heck of it, a few more did, too. Nothing happened, really. The only thing that began to change was some of my knowledge.

In addition to knowing ways to kill Ushairi, I began to find some ways to heal her, too. The shaman was determined not to let this be a total waste of time, and I wasn't too keen about that, either. So she would list off some of the herbs that she had around her den in those neat little piles, and would tell me what they did, me listening halfheartedly. I made it as plain as I could that I did _not_ want to be there. Still, I learned just about everything she taught. A few things might have slipped by, but my memory is pretty good overall.

The biggest trouble that we ran into was her trying to give me orders. That monkey Mala never showed up anymore and she had to tie all of the vines to animals' legs by herself. It was a pretty tricky thing, from what I could see, but she did it pretty well. It was on the bigger wounds that she needed help. My help. I didn't want to help, but she made me anyway. Dirty, blackmailing so-and-so.

But the worst day was when a little fire broke out. She saw the first two injured animals. There were three leopards, one limping, the other on the back of an uninjured leopard. Vessa gasped. "Where's the fire?"

"Over toward the southeast part of the kingdom. Can't miss it," said the walking one.

Then, stupidly, she turned to me and said, "I need you to go and get as many as you can out of there."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Come on, time's running out. Get going!"

"Why would I want to do that?"

The shaman stared at me in disbelief. "Excuse me?" It wasn't the first time I had received that who-do-you-think-you-are look from her.

"I could get hurt."

She remained shocked for maybe two more seconds before her gaze turned to stone and she said coldly, "Get out there, help those animals back here, and do it _now_, or else you won't be alive tomorrow."

"Do what you want. I'm not running into some fire to help a bunch of animals I don't even know."

"They'd do the same for you!" she protested.

"Maybe."

"Damn it, it's the decent thing!" she yelled.

"I'm not going." I lied down even further to prove my point. She groaned and turned to the two wounded. She grabbed some r'laka and began to press it down on wounds on the more badly burned animal. A few moments later she got some selv and started pressing down on that. All the while she kept shooting me dirty looks. The uninjured leopard left and headed back toward the fire.

I felt a little bad from the way she kept looking at me, and the annoyance of her glares making it only worse. I got up and stalked out of the den and ran toward the fire, cursing under my breath. When I finally got there, I could see that it wasn't that big of a fire. It'd just leave a burnt spot in the savannah for a while. The animals that lived there wouldn't want to ever go back there, probably.

I ran up through an opening in the flames and saw a couple of cheetahs. Both had burns on them, but neither seemed to quite notice. They looked at me wildly and asked, "Have you seen Sisha?"

"I don't know any Sisha," I yelled over the roaring fire.

"Gods, she's going to die!" the female yelled. "Sisha! Sisha!"

I decided it had to be their cub. I went through the fire and began looking, making sure I stayed out of harm's way. I had no intention to get hurt today. As I went further in, that became harder and harder. Flames seemed to be everywhere. The heat was unbearable. I cursed the shaman, and reminded myself to make sure I repeated what I was saying now when I got back.

I suddenly heard a scream, and moments later, a continual, piteous cry for "Help." I headed toward it. There were two cheetah cubs stuck in a tree, a boy and a girl. I could see what had scared them; the branch they were on had snapped partially under their weight. It wouldn't take much more for it to collapse.

"Hey!" I yelled. Both of them looked at me. "You two! Jump!"

"We can't!" yelled the girl. "We can't jump! If we jump—"

"Shut your little yap and jump, damn it!"

The boy jumped. It was an instant too late before I realized that he was jumping for me, and he hit me right in the face. I shook him off angrily and snarled at him. He cowered in the moment that I looked at him before I glared back up at the girl.

"Come on!"

She was scared, I could see that easily. She crouched down, then leapt, losing her footing just as she did. It was a sickening jump with an even more sickening crack as she hit the ground. I could see red-white on the outside of her fur and heard her scream. I groaned and told the boy, "Follow me." I picked up the girl, her screams growing still more intense and annoyingly ear-piercing.

The three of us headed out through the inferno, the boy nudging my hind leg at every step. Both of them were a reminder of why I never wanted cubs. We retraced my steps until we got to where I suppose I entered. Unfortunately, if this really was where I came in, it was blocked off with fire now.

I judged it for a moment, then looked down at the boy. I might be able to make the jump through, but he never would. If I carried him in my mouth, we'd both make it through. I'd have to put down the girl to do that, though. There was no telling if I could get back in to get whichever one I left. I put down the girl and picked up the boy. She would be lame; one leg was clearly broken. The boy was still whole. He was worth something.

I jumped through the flames, feeling the fire lick my pelt. I don't know if it caught or not; as soon as I was out, I ran for the waterhole I saw a few meters out and threw myself and the cub in. I could hear the cub splutter and yanked him out onto the shore, then dunked my head under. I brought it back up to see the two cheetah parents by me, their eyes frantic.

"Sisha's still in there!" the mother protested.

"I'm not going back in," I growled.

"Help! Mommy! Help!" I could barely hear the little girl's wails over the roars of the flames.

"Oh, gods, Sisha!" the male cheetah yelled.

"You have to go get her!" the female demanded.

"I'm not going back in there," I said. "And nothing short of hell's going to make me."

"Mommy! Daddy! _Mommy!_"

"Oh gods, she's going to die!" screamed the mother. "Do something!" she yelled at the male. "_Do something!_"

"She's already broke a leg, she's going to have a miserable life. Just let her die," I said. I picked up the boy and began to walk back to the shaman's den.

"She's my baby! Oh, gods—" I really don't understand what the cheetah did next. She just went and barreled into the flames, straight for her daughter. _She's crazy_, I thought. The male had some sense; he just watched. I thought that she should be getting counseling from the shaman, not me. I just kept carrying my cub.

The mother did show up later at the shaman's, but not for counseling. She had her cub with her, and both of them had horrendous burns. I found that I'd gotten some mild ones, and I'd told the shaman what I thought about that. The cub was dead, and the mother nearly so, and the shaman made sure she told me exactly what she thought about that after we were done treating all the victims we could. She took me outside her den, away from all the animals that would be staying in it, and sat me down.

"Look," she said. I'm not quite sure what she said after that. I remember there was a lot of profanity, a lot of preaching, and a lot of me just glaring back. I didn't say a word through the whole thing. I was just doing my best to ignore her. I got the general gist that she was deriding me for being "unfeeling," but any sane person in my position would have done the same.

After she was done, I was still fairly pissed. I went home and strangled Ushairi. I might as well put my energies into _something_ constructive that night.

oOo

The next few days with the shaman fell into a routine. She had me helping her treat all the injured, once again under the threat of death. I found the act of treating them mildly interesting. It was the catering to them that nearly made me vomit. It was sickening, me being told what to do and unable to do anything other than just comply. I wasn't at all sorry when a few of them began to die off.

Finally the last few of them began to move out. All of them thanked her graciously, and a few of them had the _courtesy_ to tell her to commend her "assistant" as well. Times like these made me want to expand my horizons beyond just Ushairi.

After the last one left, the shaman looked at me real hard for a few moments and finally said to me, "Good job." She gave me a smile, and it quickly slunk off to wherever it came from after it was obvious I wasn't going to return it. She sighed. "You did a good thing." She stared at me for a moment, then said, "You don't think so, do you?"

"I _think_," I said bitterly, "that I was _completely humiliated_ for two _weeks_."

She hung her head. "Look, Shujaa," she said. "I . . . I really don't understand what's going on up there. I don't know if I can fix it. But it is a _crying shame_ if you can't tell that what you did was a good thing. What you did was good, was noble, was kind—none of this is getting to you, is it?"

"Not at all," I said, lying my head down.

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Not really."

There was a pause. I don't know what she was doing; I didn't bother looking up. I was being bored. Finally she lied down by my side and asked quietly, "Is there anything I can do to make you listen?"

I turned to look at her. "You are working for a lost cause," I said firmly, meeting her eyes. I wanted there to be no mistake about what I was saying. "You're trying to make me into something that is wrong, and is most certainly not me. I'm not going to change. There's nothing you can do to make me. I have to do this. It's for all of you. You won't have to worry about going to rest with any sins; I'm taking them all for you. I've already told you all this, so you should just stop and give up. Let me go. You're not going to get anything but frustration out of this."

She stared at me long and hard after that. Finally she sighed and looked away. There was a long silence, during which I just laid down my head and looked away, bored once again. Finally she spoke. "I'm not going to stop trying, Shujaa. It's not what you want, and it's not what I really want, either. But if you can—change, I want you to. I don't like causing others grief. . . . I'm going to help you, Shujaa. I want you to be able to enjoy society. There's a lot you're missing out on. I just want to help."

"You know, do you even believe half of all that crap you just said?" I asked in annoyance as I looked over at her.

She still was looking away. "I do want to help you."

"Then leave me alone."

I stood up and walked out of her den, slightly annoyed by the mushy way things had turned back in there. I heard her move behind me, but I didn't look back to see what she wanted. I left and she didn't call me back. I spent the rest of my day lounging.

oOo

The next day I was back in her den again. It was the same as usual. She didn't have anything to say to me about the day before. I didn't have anything to say either. It was one of the best conversations we'd had so far.

I did my usual, routine check to make sure there were enough plants and herbs, though I had figured out long ago that she did that before I even came every morning. After I was done, I'd tell her what was short, and she'd ask me to go get it, me doing some and her doing some. It was no different today. After that, we'd lie in her den, talking sporadically, taking care of the occasional animal that came in. Once again, it was no different today.

One memorable day, we got into a fight. She got ticked off at the lack of "progress" in my "therapy" and things took a turn for the worse. One second I was lying on my back, bored out of my skull, and the next she was literally strangling me. We fought. It wasn't nice, it wasn't elegant, it was crude and blunt. She knew a little about fighting, I could see that. She tried to use techniques on me that took a little practice, at least. I didn't know a thing, but I did know that ramming her head into the wall or ground went a long way toward me winning the fight.

I pinned her from the ground, me bleeding from several scratches, and her on her back with what was undoubtedly a massive headache. "Did you like that?" she hissed at me, struggling against me. "Did you? Huh?"

She'd snapped, I could see that. I thought of several somewhat witty things to say, all of them involving her being in my place. All of them flew out of my head as she kicked me square in the groin, inflicting more pain on me than I'd ever felt. I collapsed on top of her, gasping. She bit my ear. After a few moments of recovery I wrenched my head away from her, and hit her across the face as hard as I could. After that I limped out of her den, snarling.

The next day I came back. She didn't say sorry, she didn't offer to treat my wounds. I had to do that myself. She lied in the back of the den, nursing her head and what looked like a bump. I didn't get close enough to look. It was the quietest day I ever spent with her. I'm still waiting to hear that she's sorry.

And then the day came when everything began to change, at least for me. A leopard walked into the den. He was one of the ones from the fire. He'd had a few minor burns on him, but he'd left fairly quickly. He'd been gone almost two weeks. He glanced at me, then looked over at the shaman. She was glaring at him. "Vessa, I have a problem," he said.

"Don't we all?"

He swallowed slowly. "I—feel terrible."

"I'd be a little worried if you didn't," she said acidly.

"It's not what you think it is."

"Oh, well then please tell me. I'm sure I'd find it enlightening. The perfect thing to brighten up my day."

The leopard hung his head. "You don't want to help me, do you?"

"I have to whether I like it or not. So spit the damn thing out."

"I'm having issues," the leopard said. He began to lie down and make himself comfortable.

"Trust me," said the shaman coldly, "this is going to be a short visit. You can keep standing."

The leopard looked at her for a moment, his face tinged with disbelief and hurt. I sniggered. It was nice to see someone enjoying the shaman's sharp tongue, and _not_ at my expense for once.

"You know I'm taking a risk just coming to you," said the leopard.

"That's your own damn fault. Now spit out what your problem is. Now."

"I've got problems with Kiasa."

"Like I said, your own damn fault."

"It's not—like that. I guess it is, but . . . I just can't seem to make her happy anymore. I just can't stop feeling like I'm losing her. I just feel depressed all the time. I'm not happy anymore."

"Have you thought that—just maybe—you're _depressed?_"

"I think I am. But I don't know why. I keep telling myself I've got a good life, a good mate, cubs to look forward to—"

"_Cubs?_" The shaman was practically seething. The leopard hesitated, then nodded somberly. "How _wonderful_."

"Can you please just help me?" He was practically begging. I had newfound respect for the shaman; I'd never quite seen this side of her. "I—need you," said the leopard pathetically.

"When did you start feeling this way?" asked the shaman, obviously annoyed. She laid her head down. Her desire to get this done and over with was overwhelming.

"About—two, three weeks ago. Not long after the fire."

The shaman closed her eyes.

"Uh, Vessa?"

"Shut up," she said. "I'm thinking."

The leopard fell silent. He looked over at me with an odd stare. I didn't know what he was thinking. I just ignored him. If he wasn't worth the shaman's time, then he most certainly wasn't worth mine.

"What plant did I give you for the fire?" the shaman finally asked.

"What—plant?"

Her eyes opened in irritation. "For the burns, idiot."

"Oh. You told me to take selv, along with yson . . ."

The shaman lifted her head from the ground, staring blankly at him, then groaned and shook her head. "Oh _gods_, I am so _stupid!_" She got up and began looking around all her plant stores, looking at each pile separately, in no conceivable order at all.

"What?" asked the leopard anxiously. "What's the problem?"

"Get out," she said. "Just go."

"What?"

"Get out, I have work to do."

"But what about my—"

"Just halve your damn allotment, you'll be fine." She continued pawing through her piles.

"But it'll hurt more," the leopard whined.

"Then take three times as much all at once. It'll hurt a lot less, I guarantee it."

"But I couldn't I die if I do that?" asked the leopard, shocked.

"And the world would be a better place. Now get out before I send you back to your damn mate with half your tail." She turned to look at the leopard. "Now!"

The leopard left quickly. I watched her go through her piles, taking a few out of several and leaving the rest. There wasn't anything wrong with them that I could see. Finally I said, "Are you going to tell me what you're doing, or am I going to have to hold my breath?"

"There's a cure," she said. "I can't believe I didn't see it before, but I just wasn't thinking about it the right way, and you just have to look at it from a different perspective, it's not that you have to cure anti-sociality, you just have to fix the emotions . . ."

Her voice trailed off. I'd rarely seen her this excited before. She usually only got this way when she was treating a difficult patient and she finally realized just what they needed. Of course, there was only one patient that she had right now. "Who was the jerk, anyway?" I asked.

She stopped cold. "He . . . I knew him. He was my—lover, for lack of a better word, for a while. In short, he had an affair with another, and left me when I found out about it. I don't really want to talk about it."

"I thought talking was good," I said mockingly.

"Just let me get back to work," she said. I left her to it, but partway through I asked, "Can I at least leave?"

"No."

I growled and laid my head down. The only thing I had to do was lie down while she ran around her den, making little piles of herbs on her floor. It went on for what seemed like hours. Gods, I was bored.

Finally she stood back and sat down. "Alright," she said, then again, "Alright." She turned to look at me, then back at the last pile she'd made. "I think," she said, finally speaking to me, "that I've found something that'll help you. Come here."

I stayed put. She knew better than to try to order me around like that, at least. She sighed, then said, "Come here _please_."

I grudgingly pushed myself up off the floor. She busied herself with getting the smallest amount of each plant in the pile, but still maintaining a ratio. The process was ridiculously simple, at least to me. I had a mind for numbers.

"And just what is this supposed to do?"

"You're either going to be much more personable, or you're going to be a very, very sad lion."

She sorted out a few more of an herb, then added a couple of another back in after she realized she took too many out. She picked the remaining pile up in her mouth, then laid it down on another bare patch of ground to ensure that it wouldn't have anything accidentally added to it or taken away.

I stared at the pile hard and finally said, "It's wrong."

"Huh?"

"You're off on the acuyle." I looked up at her. "Why is that even in here?"

"To counteract the side effects. We don't want you running off and killing yourself, do we?"

She looked it over again, then saw I was right and fixed it. She placed it in the little stone basin she had for mixing over by a wall, then added blood for flavoring from another basin roughly the same size. Gods know where she found them. They were the only two stone basins she had, and she treated them with the utmost care.

She put the basin with the herbs in it down in front of me. "Eat up."

I looked down at the few herbs in the basin, then back up at her. "No."

She only blinked in reaction. "_Yes_."

"_No_."

"Yes."

"No."

"Ye—"

"I told you, shaman," I said testily. "You want to help me, you leave me alone. There isn't a thing wrong with me. The only thing that I have is abnormality, and you're not going to cure that."

"Well, I can try," she said, gesturing toward the basin with a forepaw.

I glared up at her, then knocked the basin across the den, its contents scattering. I didn't even bother to look at her as I got up and left. The only things I heard from her were her sudden gasp, and then her slow, angry snarl.

oOo

I was lying in the corner of my den when King Janja came up to me. "Shujaa, I'd like to talk with you."

"Yes?" I asked. I inwardly groaned. She'd gone and ratted on me.

"Outside, please."

I rolled my eyes and got up. I knew someone would hear somehow, and it would be across the den in half a day, whatever it was. There really was no privacy here at all. I followed him outside. "What is it, sire?"

He hesitated. I saw his eyes flick momentarily behind me. "Shujaa—"

I felt something pounce on me, making me stagger. The king knocked me to the ground. It all happened so quickly, I almost didn't have any idea what was happening. King Janja pinned me down, and I saw the shaman's face come into view. She hit me across the face, and I cried out in pain. In that one moment where my mouth was open, she pressed her mouth over mine, our jaws interlocking. I felt something drop into the back of my throat and gagged. She removed her mouth, and I instinctively swallowed, feeling something go down my throat, before I spat in her face.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I snarled.

"Giving you your medicine," she said. I don't know how my surprise showed, but I hated that smirk on her face.

"You backstabbing bitch—"

"Shujaa!" reprimanded the king.

"Get off me!" I said angrily, pushing him off. I rolled over and stood up. "What makes you think you can do this to me?!"

"Come back to my den tomorrow and we won't have to go through this again," said the shaman.

"Oh, you bit—"

"_Shujaa!_"

"Oh, shut up, sire, I'll say as I _damn_ well please!"

"Not if you value your place in this kingdom, you won't! I've been far too lenient with you in the past—"

"Who do you think you are to tell me what to do? Who're any of you to think you can tell me what to do?"

"That's enough!" said King Janja angrily. "I won't have this insubordination in my pride!"

"I've done more for this pride than you ever could have in your life! You're nothing but a washed-up shell compared to me!"

I would forever remember today as the day I got smacked for the first time. Yes, I'd been in physical fights before, so obviously it's not my first time I got hit before. But this was the first time I really got _smacked_, with no provocation whatsoever. King Janja just let me have it across the face.

"I will not be spoken to that way," he said sternly.

Oh, how I could kill a lion. He was dead. He forced that crappy-tasting ball down my throat, and then he _slapped_ me for it? He was so dead. There was nothing I could do but snarl, though. No one appreciated me. Especially not this son of a bitch. He was just as bad as Aushi, I saw that now. Assholism apparently ran in the family.

"Did you hear me, Shujaa?"

My _gods_, he wanted to die, didn't he? I felt myself shaking with the effort of restraining myself. It took even more work to quietly turn and walk away. _Far_ away.

"Don't forget," said the shaman. "My place tomorrow."

I turned and roared at her as loud as I could, then continued walking. They were both dead, I swore it.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This is a completely re-worked third chapter. I wasn't satisfied with the first one, and thought that if I just edited it here and there it'd end up being pretty much the same crap. So I completely rewrote it. Many thanks to Ochi, if it weren't for him and his c&c, you wouldn't be reading this (hopefully) better chapter. If you want to read the first draft of the chapter, just email me (it's on my author page). If you want to review this chapter, but already have, just review it on the fourth chapter.**

oOo

I went to her place the next day. I wanted to kill her, of course. Brutally, painfully, with lots of blood and screaming. But instead, trying to hide her little smirk, she pushed another bowl of herbs in front of me. "Eat up."

"No," I snarled.

"I'm the shaman. You are the lion that follows the shaman's orders. Eat up. Now." She paused to glare at me for "effect." "I _will_ get the king. And I _will_ get you out of this kingdom."

"I could care less what you try to do."

"I could make you eat it."

I could see a glint in her eyes. "I'd like to see you try."

"Eat it. Now."

I grudgingly did so. The things that she forced me through. We went through this routine for two weeks. It didn't help. I only got worse. She finally saw that something was wrong by the end of the second week when I burst into angry tears when she threatened me.

"Can't you just lay off?" I screamed at her. "Dammit, why can't you ever listen to me for once! I just wanted to help, I just wanted to help everyone! Gods _damn it!_" I ran out of the shaman's den, her following me. Whatever she had been feeding me, it was potent. Obviously, she took me off it.

Needless to say, when I came back to my senses, she was in an excellent position to replace Ushairi.

But she didn't stop. Oh, no. She made up another completely random and utterly hazardous mess that could have killed me. She tried to feed it to me, of course. I just walked out of the den. So she put it in my food. I really have no idea how she did it, probably gave it to the king or something, but even _that_ doesn't explain it. I'll give her this: I did feel a little less on edge. I didn't snap at others quite so many times. I _did_ find out what insomnia was like.

So I dragged my sleep-deprived self into her den, and to tell her that she had once again failed to please _or_ cure me, I slapped her across the face and walked out. I abruptly turned and went back in, told her "And don't you even think about doing that again," and left.

So she did it again.

I slapped her again.

We both partook in one of our favorite pastimes: brawling around her den and making a complete mess of it, me barely limping out of it afterwards, and her lying on the floor, bloodied and beaten, too exhausted to follow me.

It's an insanity thing. You wouldn't understand.

oOo

"I want to kill her."

"How nice," said Arezo. He was lying a short distance from me. It was one of the few times I had gotten to be around him; the shaman kept me holed up in her den practically all the time. As it was, it was near dark.

"I mean I want to really _kill_ her. Just—feel the life flowing out underneath my paws."

"That's great, Shujaa."

"You're not paying attention, are you?"

"Not a single word."

"Are you sick of me?" Arezo was unusually quiet. I stared at him slightly in shock. "You really are sick of me."

"Look, Shujaa . . . I think I should just get a little space—between us."

"Uh-huh."

"I, uh . . . I'm on the list now, aren't I?"

I got up and walked away.

oOo

I went back to the shaman's cave, flopped down on the floor of her den, and announced, "I'm not happy."

"And?"

"Isn't that your problem?"

She sighed. "Look, I'm not trying to make you happy," she said patiently. "I'm trying to cure your homicidal depression."

I stared at the ceiling. "You know, I'm beginning to wonder if you actually do joke, or you really, really hate me."

"I'm your shaman. I analyze you, not the other way around."

"I thought you didn't analyze animals."

"Whatever. Now really, if you don't mind . . ." I looked over to her to see her examining a lioness _very_ personally. I looked up to see who it was and felt a chill run down my spine. I felt my claws slide out.

"You didn't tell me you had company."

"I _did_ tell you to clear out for a day. So if you wouldn't mind leaving, I'm in the middle of an examination."

"I can see that."

"A _female_ examination."

"I can see that."

"So if you would please leave . . ."

"Why don't you just call it what it is? An Ushairi examination?" She was trembling as the shaman stood over her. It made me smile a little. I licked my lips. "Why, this is to _die_ for—"

"Shujaa, get out before I throw you out on your ass _after_ sticking your head up it _after_ removing it from your neck first."

"Fine," I said, standing up and leaving. "I'll wait."

oOo

I waited for her, obviously. The shaman, at least, wasn't completely stupid. She looked out for me before letting Ushairi out. She almost saw me, but how many animals actually think to look on the top of their den?

I slid down the back side and stalked after Ushairi into the grass. I tracked her until she stopped near a waterhole. I found that I was trembling with excitement. It had been so long, I could hardly compose myself. My claws dug into the ground, digging for a purchase, yet it only seemed to excite me more. I licked my lips eagerly, hearing a small growl escape. She looked up, looking around for that source, her eyes wide with fear.

Her pause was all the time I needed. I jumped at her. I had almost forgotten the wonderful sensation, watching her turn as I leapt, almost in slow motion, seeing her face slowly turning into horror. Her blood-curdling scream pierced my ears as I grabbed her and tackled her into the water. I held her head under and watched as she struggled madly to get free. I grinned madly as she slowly had the life forced out of her.

It was awful.

I don't know at what point I realized that. It seemed at one moment I was standing over her, smiling as I killed her, and the next I felt my paws slipping from her throat, my body limp with horror at the sin I was committing. It hit me like—oh, I don't know, like she did as soon as she got me off her. She knocked me to the ground, only stopping to scream at me before she ran into the savannah.

Frankly, I didn't know what to do. I slept on it.

oOo

I went to the shaman's den the next morning. I lied down on the floor and watched her turn to me. She knew, I could tell. She also was trying to hide the fact. She put my herbs in front of me, unprepared. She had stopped slipping them to me unnoticed when I began eating them voluntarily. "What, no blood?" I asked.

"Make it yourself," she said sourly.

I toyed with them as she went back and lied down in her spot and closed her eyes. I made them, stupidly enough, into a smiley face. "What's it like to become sane?"

"How should I know?"

My, oh my, the way she opened herself up for it with that one. I let it slide and simply asked, "Fine, what's it like to be sane? By your limited standard of the word?"

"It's—well, it's just not that much of a change, I suppose," she said. "You wouldn't want to kill Ushairi, that's all."

"I tried to yesterday."

"What a shock."

"I couldn't do it."

"What?" She sat up; I had finally gotten her attention.

"I couldn't do it. I started, but I was—repulsed. It didn't seem right."

She stared at me for a few minutes. I didn't know what was going on in her head. Finally she said to me, "You don't have to know why you do what you do to be sane, you know."

"I thought that was what you wanted. Little Shujaa to be just like everyone else, a perfect replica."

"Life needs a healthy dose of abnormality."

"You could leave me as I am, then."

"I said 'healthy.' Not 'lethal.'"

I stared down at the herbs in front of me. They grinned back. "Maybe that's all it takes to be sane. Just being able to be tolerated. If it's too strange . . ."

"Insanity is stretching the bounds of action into forms distasteful and/or illogical to the majority." I looked up at her. It sounded like she said something smart; you didn't often get to be present for that. She smiled back at me. "Shujaa's Law."

"Shaman's Law," I corrected.

"You know, you can call me by my name."

I looked up at her. "Vessa," I said quietly. I stared down at my herbs, just stared, just watching them smile back at me. I finally spoke: "I want to get well."

"What?" It sounded as if she expected any words but those to come out of my mouth.

"I want to get well. If only to see if I like being sane." I looked up at her. "You can help me, right?"

Her face broke into a smile. She stood up and brought the basin of blood over to me and set it down. I dipped my paw into it and spread lavish amounts of blood onto the herbs. I looked back up to her.

"To a healthy dose of abnormality."

oOo

It was about a month later that she brought me before the king. It was a quiet, private meeting between the three of us.

"Frankly, sire, he's doing much better—"

"You'll understand if I'm skeptical of that."

"He's gotten much better. He can be kind, compassionate, caring—" King Janja snorted. "Well when was the last time you talked to him, sire?"

"Yesterday."

"Asking if I went to see Vessa doesn't count," I said.

"Really, sire," said Vessa, "when was the last time you sat down and had a nice long talk with him? When have any of you?"

"Shujaa's not the kind of person that you have a heart-to-heart with."

"Even a passing conversation—"

"Vessa," I interrupted.

"What?"

"They all, uh, kind of avoid me. Like the plague."

Vessa looked over at the king. "What?" he asked. "He—well, he's been doing his—_thing_ for years—"

"He's stopped."

"It's hard to convince them of that."

"Sire, I let him work with me. On all the animals in the kingdom. Even cubs. He's—well, he's okay at it, I wouldn't say he's great—"

"Hey!"

"—but he _heals_, sire. He's trying to help."

"So you're saying he's fine now?" asked the king.

"Well—you're kind of backing me into a corner here, sire—"

"Is he healed or not?"

"He's . . . better."

"All better?"

Vessa glanced over at me. "Fairly, sire."

"And I did it all by myself," I said.

"True story," said the shaman.

King Janja looked over at me, staring intently. I just stared back. He finally looked back at Vessa. "Until you can prove he's safe, you're stuck with him."

"Sire—"

"That's my command."

"And just how do we test that he's 'safe'?"

"You figure it out. He's your problem."

Vessa frowned. I'd seen that frown before. "Shujaa, would you excuse us?"

I left the den. I didn't need to be told twice. I waited for her outside, hearing hushed, excited voices. After a few minutes I heard a meaty thud and a snarl. Vessa walked out, simply saying, "Come along."

As we left, I turned to look into the den. The king was glaring at the two of us as we left. "Uh, can I ask what—"

"No," said Vessa.

"'Cause it kind of sounded like—"

"Like what?"

"Like you slapped him."

"I did."

"Ah." I walked beside her for a few moments before I asked, "Gonna tell me why?"

"He called me a whore."

oOo

She'd explained it all by the time we got back to the den. Apparently the king had stooped to a new low and decided that it wasn't enough to put me with her. He now had to believe rumors that I was sleeping with her to make her get rid of me sooner as well.

I came back to her den the next day. It wasn't until after I finished my herbs it finally dawned on me.

"You know, I thought you said that I was better now."

"Uh-huh," she said idly. She was busy looking over a cheetah who had a beautiful gash on his hind leg, and apparently had gotten it infected.

"So, why the herbs still?"

"You want to stay better? Get me some of that aur."

"I thought you kept switching the herbs."

She finally looked up at me. "I didn't. Aur, please."

"What do you mean you didn't?"

"Look, it's nothing to get worked up about. Just get me some aur. Three leaves."

"What do you mean?" I demanded.

"Look—I just thought we shouldn't ruin a good thing—"

"_What do you mean?_"

"I stopped switching after about the third time. It made you docile enough, didn't it? You stopped trying to do all the normal things. It was just something to calm you down. Relieve some aggression. And it worked."

"You said I did it myself."

"Well, you did. In a way. You still helped."

"You lied to me."

"One point of looking at it."

"You _lied_ to me."

"Sure. Now give me some of that aur."

"I _trusted_ you."

"What are you going to do, cry about it? Look, I did what I saw was right—"

I snarled at her.

"Touchy. Now look, are you going to give me that aur or not?"

I swatted the whole pile of aur across the den and walked out, hearing her yell after me. I didn't care. She'd pissed me off enough for one day.

oOo

I went back to her the next day. She seemed to be surprised to see me. She actually yelled when she saw me. "Boo," I said.

"If I ever wake up this early again and see your ugly face, I'll tear it off," she snarled.

"It's almost dawn."

"I am _not_ a morning leopard."

"So, I spent last night thinking, and I just came here this morning to tell you to go to hell."

"Excuse me?"

"This is goodbye. I'll be damned if someone shoves stuff down my throat and then lies to me about it." I turned to go.

"I did the right thing!" she insisted.

"Says you."

"What would you have done if—"

I whirled around to face her. "I _trusted_ you!" I yelled at her. "I thought you were a friend!" She was silent. "No smart remark? A little surprised? So was I!"

"Shujaa—"

"You said I was getting better. You never said anything about any herbs making me that way!"

"Does it matter how it happens—"

"_Yes!_ Don't you get it? I was—I was proud of myself about something for the first time! This—healing—is one thing I can actually _do!_ They come here, and they—they appreciate me for what I do. And now I know it wasn't really me the whole time!"

"Shujaa, it is you—"

"Stop _lying!_" I screamed. She stepped back, frightened. "I've had enough of you, you lying bitch! I'm not going to take it anymore! I don't care if go insane, I don't care if I end up killing myself not to! To hell with trusting you or _anyone_ else!" I stormed out of the den. I got some pleasure from the fact that her eyes were undeniably wet.

oOo

Guilt is a funny thing. It always springs up in the strangest places. I don't like it. In all fairness, there was no reason for me to feel sorry for her. She had tricked me, deceived me, and hadn't felt sorry about it at all. Turnabout's perfectly fair play.

But I had made her cry.

No matter what I argued, it all seemed to come down to that. I kept seeing her face with those tear-filled eyes. I'd never hurt her. I might have joked with her, but I never hurt her. Even when I had tried in the beginning, nothing had happened. She just shrugged everything off. But now I'd hurt her. I made her cry. It seemed like some unspeakable sin. My stomach kept trying to burrow its way through my gut and into the ground.

Like I said, it made no sense at all.

I went back the next day, intending to apologize. I found her lying on her back on the floor, apparently asleep. I came closer and saw her eyes were half-open. "Vessa?"

She looked up at me. Her eyes were bloodshot and her pupils had dilated. She blinked slowly and said, "You're a piece of shit, you know that?"

Only the fact that something was obviously wrong with her stopped me from smacking her and walking right back out. "Vessa—"

"A genuine piece of shit." Her words were slurred a little. "And me. Me too. Maybe I'm a bigger piece of shit." She stared up at the ceiling. "There are three little cracks right there, you know that. Three. They're fuzzy."

"Vessa, what's wrong?"

"I'm high as a bird, you know that? High as a little bird . . ."

I could imagine what had happened. She knew herbs far better than I did. Making a cocktail wasn't below her. She was wasted. I'd heard about it, everyone had, but I'd never actually seen it before. It was shameful. "Vessa—"

"Shut up," she said, unsteadily getting to her feet. She stumbled against me. "There's no need to yell."

"I'm not yelling. Look, just lie down, and I'll—"

She wrapped her forelegs around my neck and collapsed, pulling my head down. "Just relax," she said. "Just relax . . . think happy thoughts . . . think happy thoughts . . . You're practically on top of me, you know? You're coming on to me, aren't you?"

"I—"

"You're a perv, you know?"

I sighed. She was out of her head. "Look, just stand up again, and let me move you to the back."

"No."

"Okay then." I forced her to roll over onto her stomach, and took the nape of her neck in my jaws and started dragging her to the back of the den. About halfway there she started complying. I laid her down in the back of the den and tried to get some sense into her. That was the one problem with herbs: there's not really any way you can get them out of you once you've stuck them in there. You can only wait them out.

Vessa just laid in the back of the den that day, just murmuring to herself, nonsense things about the way the world kept spinning and reminding me to keep thinking happy thoughts. The other half found her unfortunately sober and with a raging headache that felt, she said, "like a rabid hyena with bad dental hygiene gnawing on my skull." I was stuck taking care of the animals that came in.

It wasn't until the end of the day that I had a lucid conversation with her. "How're you feeling?"

"A little better," she said. "Sleepy."

"Uh, it's about time for me to get going."

"Already?"

"Yeah. Look . . . Vessa . . ." She cracked an eye open to look at me. "I may have said some things that—offended you and . . . well . . . you see . . ."

"Apology accepted."

I smiled. "Just—don't do this again."

"Do what again?"

"Okay." I pushed myself up. "See you tomorrow."

"Couldn't you stay here tonight? I'm not feeling the best."

I smiled. "Hell, what are friends for?"

oOo

I walked into Vessa's den and flopped onto the ground, simply saying "Gimme."

"You're awfully polite," she said as she pushed over a pile of herbs, already lathered in blood.

I rolled over onto my stomach and gulped down the herbs as quickly as I could. No matter how much blood was smeared on them, it still felt like I was eating a tree. "The king wants to know when I'll be healed."

"I told him you were healed," said Vessa exasperatedly. "I've told him a million times."

"That's why I said he should come over here and have you take a look at that stick up his ass."

Vessa smirked. "One of these days he and his son are going to run you out of the kingdom."

"What, you think I can't take 'em?"

"_I_ can kick your ass."

"Of course you can, I'm practically saturated with herbs."

Vessa just smiled. I had lost track of how long we had been doing this. I didn't really care anymore. It was just the way life was, an immutable fact. There was nothing wrong with it, as far as I was concerned.

"You know—okay, never mind," said Vessa.

"What?"

"Just a stupid thought."

"Oh, okay." I didn't ask further. I knew she wanted me to.

After what must have been a few agonizing seconds, she finally burst out, "Okay, fine, I do have something."

"Good for you."

"How would you feel about—getting off the herbs?"

"Getting off them? You mean—just stop taking them?"

"Why not? Look, the king wants to prove you're safe for the kingdom to be around. Do it this way and there can't be any doubt. It'll be you, all you—"

"No!" I yelled.

"Huh? Shujaa?"

I couldn't explain it. The mere mention of stopping was enough to send me shaking. I felt my claw scratching at the floor of her den. "I can't," I whispered. "Just—just no. I can't."

"Shujaa—"

"I won't!" I yelled. "Okay?! You can't make me!"

"Don't you think you're overreacting?" I stopped dead. "Look, it was a simple question. It's not going to kill you, okay?"

I shook my head, trying to clear it. "Vessa just—no. Just no. I can't. I just have the worst of all feelings about doing that. You can't stop them."

"Alright then. Consider it dropped."

I knew it wouldn't be. She knew what she wanted, and she wanted to get rid of me. Granted, she liked me as a friend, and would be more than happy to have me stay on with her, but right now I was an obligation to her. Once something stops being a chore, it's never quite so hard to do.

I wasn't all that surprised when she said to me the next morning, "So you know, I just now remembered something. You know acuyle, right? Well, if you take it for a prolonged period of time, it's actually habit-forming. Addictive. So if you think abou—"

"I said no, Vessa."

"But this is what makes sense!" she insisted. "You're _dependent_ on this now, and it's getting worse every day! If you kick it now, it'll be so much easier than doing it tomorrow, or next week—"

"Give me my herbs, Vessa," I said impatiently. "I don't have all day."

"Actually, you do—"

"That's beside the point!" I snapped. "Just give 'em to me!"

Vessa sighed and pushed the pile in front of me. "Fine. Here."

I swallowed them down before she had a chance to take them back. "It's not an addiction," I said. "I can quit whenever I feel like it."

"Then why don't you?"

"I don't want to."

"Yes you do."

"No I don't."

"Yes you do!"

"No I don't!"

"I gave you a laxative!"

I began to spit out as much as I could.

oOo

I honestly didn't know what to do. If worst came to worst, I could make the necessary herbs myself. I knew where to find them, I didn't need Vessa for that. Parasitism was the only reason I really stayed with her, that and she was the only one that seemed to be able to stand me.

I decided to do something I hadn't done in a long time. I went looking for Arezo. Granted, I hadn't seen too much of him, but I still counted him as a friend. The rest of the den had pretty much taken to talking about me behind my back, even though they didn't know the full story. I didn't know about Arezo. But at least he was someone I could trust to be honest with me.

I found him after being directed to different places by about half the pride. About half of the directions I had been told to go were dead ends, places where there wasn't anyone, and it looked like there hadn't been anyone in ages. I finally found him with Umo, the two of them nuzzling and necking next to the river.

I cleared my throat. The two of them looked lazily over toward me, then leapt apart when they saw who it was. "Shujaa, what the hell do you think you're doing, sneaking up on us like that?" Umo demanded.

"It's okay, Umo—" said Arezo.

"Okay? It's not okay! What the hell is he doing out here, anyway?"

"I just want to talk to Arezo," I said patiently.

"Well, he's busy," said Umo. "Come on, Arezo." She turned to go.

I nipped her tail with my teeth, causing her to jump with a shriek. "Maybe you didn't understand me," I said. "I'm going to talk to Arezo. So clear off."

"Look, it'll just take a few minutes," said Arezo, trying to pacify her. "Just wait over there, okay?"

Umo gave me one last look of disgust and marched off.

"Now what is it?" Arezo asked me.

"I need some help."

"Oh, no."

"What?"

"I know what you're going to ask. The answer is no."

"Look, all I want is some advice," I said. "That's it, I swear."

"Fine. Make it fast."

"I'm—well, you know I'm taking some herbs to help with my—sickness."

"About thirty of them from what I hear."

"Well, Vessa wants to get me off of them."

"Who's Vessa?"

"The shaman."

"Well, fine, stop then." He looked over toward Umo. She was glaring at the two of us.

"It's not that easy," I said. "I need these. If I don't have them . . . I know you may not believe me, but I don't want to go back to the way I was. I was a monster then. I was just so . . . cold."

"Well then don't do it," Arezo said.

"Vessa thinks I'm ready. I just . . . I don't know if I could."

"Then try it," he said in annoyance. "She can always fix you again if you break, right?"

"You don't really care, do you?"

Arezo glanced over at Umo again. "Look, Shujaa, I'm more than happy to help, but why do you always have to keep coming up to me with your shit?"

"Do you just want me to stop?"

He gritted his teeth, then finally spoke: "You know what? I do. I'm not afraid to say it. Look, I tried to be nice, I tried to get you to stop, I tried to help you—I'm lucky to even have Umo with all that I've done for you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean that nobody likes you! Come on, you have to see that. I'm finally getting a decent life, a good life with a good girl, and you're coming around again. Just leave me alone. Until you can raise your head with some decency, just stay away from me."

He glared at me. I suppose I had this coming. It didn't help to tell myself that. "Is that all?" he finally asked.

"Yeah," I said bitterly. I turned and angrily walked back into the savannah.

oOo

I went to Vessa the next morning. She had my herbs in the middle of the floor, waiting for me. "Morning," she said.

I didn't respond. I walked up to the herbs, took aim, and swatted them out of the den.

"Hey!" protested Vessa. "Do you have any idea what I went through to get that for you?"

"The usual stuff," I said, dropping to the ground with a thud. "I'm quitting."

Vessa looked down at me in surprise. "Oh," she said quietly, then louder, "Well, you could have at least told me that before I fixed them." She paused. "What made you change your mind?"

"Some advice from a friend I had."

oOo

It was later that day that I was disturbed by King Janja. "Why aren't you with Vessa?" he asked.

I rolled over, staring at his feet. I had been lying in the den, facing the wall, trying to get some sleep. "She let me go," I muttered.

"What do you mean?" he asked suspiciously.

"I mean she let me go because she didn't want me to be around the den today. Some idiot cheetah got himself impaled on a wildebeest. She sent me home. Now can I just sleep?"

"Why didn't she want you around?"

"Because I've stopped taking my herbs."

I saw his eyes widen. "You what?"

"You wanted proof. Well this is the only way she could think of to get it."

"Is that . . . safe?"

I could tell what he meant. "Are you safe?" "I'm fine, sire. I've told you I'm fine, we both told you I was okay to be around, months ago."

"You were on the herbs then."

I finally looked up at his face, glaring at him. "Bravo, sire. You put me in this position. You deal with it. Now can I just get some sleep?" I rolled back over without waiting for his permission. I knew he was debating whether or not to chastise me. Finally he walked away. After all, I was an unstable deviant now. Who knew what I would do?

Neither Vessa nor I knew what would happen after I stopped taking the herbs. The effects became obvious by the third day. I collapsed in a seizure in Vessa's den. I couldn't stop shaking. She tried everything, but nothing worked until finally I passed out, not waking until hours later. I had milder ones after for the next few days after that, not nearly as bad as the first one. I never passed out again, I just had to weather them. After a few days, they stopped completely.

Vessa was worried. She had every right to be. I was scared shitless. Who was to say that the herbs had only been there to guide me a little while I developed a conscience? I stayed as far away from Ushairi. Strangely enough, I found her seeking me out a couple of times. I found myself running as soon as I saw her. I found my heart throbbing in my chest whenever I saw her, but it wasn't like before. This wasn't adrenaline. This was pure, chilling fear.

Most of the time I had was spent with Vessa. I knew it probably wouldn't do any good at first, but if I snapped, I wanted those herbs right there to shove down my throat.

It took almost a month, but I was finally able to relax. I slowly began to adjust to the idea that I didn't need my herbs. Vessa began to finally let me treat the patients again. I was being accepted like I deserved. Things were beginning to feel normal again. Almost, anyway.

oOo

I planned a surprise for Vessa and finally decided to go through with it about a month after I had stopped taking my herbs. She had been gone for a few hours, helping a lioness give birth. I moved when I had the chance. I had decided to bring down a carcass for Vessa. I had just finished the preparations when she walked back into the den.

"What are you doing?" she asked suspiciously.

I stepped back from the carcass, a sheepish grin on my face. "Surprise."

She smiled. "What's the occasion?"

"Think of it as a 'thank you' for everything you've done to me."

"Well that's . . . sweet . . . You poisoned it, didn't you?"

I grinned at her. "Only the good parts."

"Well that's a relief."

"Come on, eat."

She took a bite out of the carcass and began chewing, then paused. She swallowed, her face contorted in disgust. "Ew . . . what the hell happened to this thing?"

"I added some herbs for taste. Why? How does it taste?"

"Ah . . . it sure does," she said, her tongue hanging out.

"That bad?"

"Just give me straight meat. I'm not a rabbit."

"Now you know how I felt."

"Mm." She continued eating the carcass out of politeness, lying down. "You sure you don't want some?" she asked with a grimace.

"No, you look like you're enjoying it." I walked over to her and placed myself over her, then placed my forelegs on her back, pressing down.

"Hey, what—"

"Just relax." I began to slowly massage her back. I was going to enjoy this.

She purred. "Now _that_ feels like a 'thank you.'"

"That's it . . . just relax . . . don't be afraid to eat a little, too."

"No thanks," she said. She craned her head to look at me, smiling up at me. "I never really thought of you as a romantic animal."

"I'm not," I said. Under the pretense of massaging her neck, I placed a paw on it and pressed it down firmly on the ground.

"Hey—Shujaa, what're you—"

I pressed my body flat against hers, stopping her from doing anything but squirming. "That's it," I said quietly into her ear. I felt a smile creep across my face as she resisted. "Struggle more."

"Shujaa, what the hell are you doing?" she yelled. I could hear it in her voice. She knew I wasn't her happy, safe Shujaa anymore.

"You see, the herbs make a paralyzer. Such a wonderful, easy combination." She stopped struggling and tried to relax. I dug my claws into her neck, feeling her tense up again. I laughed softly. "So you figured it out? Yes, get all tensed up. Let's see you just lock up that way. Unable to move, sore for hours afterwards . . . while I'm gone."

"Shujaa—Shujaa we need to get you on those herbs again—"

"No!" I snarled, digging my claws still deeper into her neck through impulse. "You'd love that, wouldn't you? Me being at your paws again, eating whatever you pushed in front of me, desperate to be called 'sane.' I'm sick of you deluding me. I'll be damned if I'll stand by and let you destroy me."

"I just wanted to help you!" She was actually crying. She was scared of what I'd do to her. She put up absolutely no resistance, her fighting spirit entirely crushed. "You're sick, you're—"

"_Shut up!_" I roared. I pressed down harder on her neck. She yelled out in pain.

"Shujaa, please!" she begged. "You're hurting me!"

"You took it all from me," I snarled. "All of it. And I'm not going to give it up."

"You're sick, you need help—"

I lost my control for a moment and drew my paw off her neck. She didn't have time to move before I replaced it on her face, slamming her head into solid rock. "The only thing I am is different," I hissed into her ear. "Abnormal. And life needs abnormality, doesn't it?"

She whimpered, actually whimpered. It was almost as good as Ushairi. "Shujaa, please," she pleaded.

"No," I said. "This is the end. Go ahead, run and tell the king—if you can get there. You won't be able to stop me this time." I smiled. "Nobody will."

I couldn't resist any longer. My time with her was done; I had gotten my message across. There was only one thing that I had to do now. I got off of the shaman and walked out of the den. I heard her groan behind me and turned, seeing her trying to get up and run after me. The herbs were already slowing her. I laughed at her feeble efforts and went on my way.

oOo

Ushairi was beautiful.

I could see that now more than ever. She lied at the top of a cliff, her forelegs dangling over the edge, staring down over the kingdom as if she ruled it all. I smiled up at her, then began to walk around the large structure to meet her. She simply smiled at me as I approached. "Hey, Shujaa."

"Hello," I said. I sat down next to her.

She hesitated, then said, "So you've stopped avoiding me?"

I nodded. "Yes. I don't want to anymore."

Her smile grew a little wider. "Listen," she said, looking away, "I'm—I'm sorry about the way the others are treating you."

"What do you mean?"

"Well come on, they're treating you like shit! I mean . . . I know you're different. All that time with the shaman—it's changed you. I just never really realized that." She looked back up at me. "So I'm gonna stop running, okay?"

I had never heard anything more wonderful. She didn't want to stay away from me. She was coming to me, coming willingly. I could barely contain my excitement at what this meant. She _accepted_ _it_, truly and completely. I nuzzled her, feeling her stiffen as I did. "Where's Aushi?" I asked.

"He's—he's gone. I dumped him," she said. She almost sounded ashamed.

I purred, literally purred, as I continued nuzzling her. She truly was accepting it. I could feel by breathing growing heavier. Soon I wouldn't be able to restrain myself at all. I had to do it soon, before I lost control. "Let's do this."

Her eyes widened in fear. "Shujaa—you're crazy!"

I snapped out of my trance. I felt my muscles go rigid. I slammed her neck to the ground, just as I had for Vessa. I hissed down to her, "Don't—call—me—crazy!"

"Just let me go!" she pleaded. "Please, just let me go!" She trembled under me. She tried to get up but immediately went limp as I pressed down harder.

I was livid. "You lied to me, too," I snarled. My paw shook on her neck with my fury. She hadn't. I had been so hopeful, but she had trashed all of my dreams.

"Shujaa—"

"Enough!" I yelled. I took my paw off her neck and hit her in the gut. She rolled off the cliff, barely managing to catch herself on the edge. She swung wildly, letting out a scream.

"Shujaa—Shujaa, please, you can't do this, you can't do this!" She clawed at the edge, trying to get herself up, her claws leaving gouges in the earth before they hit the solid rock underneath. I watched with disgust, taking in the sight. "Help me up!" she begged. "Please, just help me up!"

She was doing well enough of that by herself. "No," I said coldly.

She pulled forward with both of her forelegs, managing to come a few inches into the cliff. "Please," she begged. She had that "appeal to the sense of morality" tone of voice that I recognized all too well. "Please, you're supposed to be better now You're supposed to be okay!"

I grinned. I leapt forward, grabbing her legs with my paws. "Trust me," I said, "I'm not okay."

She struggled to get up in a brief second before I dug in my claws and threw her from the cliff. I couldn't stop myself as I plummeted over as well, watching her scream below me as she grabbed for a hold which would never come. I grinned. I had learned one thing from the shaman after all.

Think happy thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N : If you are reading this, you most likely want to read the third chapter first. It has been redone, which is the purpose of this update. This chapter is mainly filler, just an answer to a lot of people's questions about what happened after it. In short, if you haven't read the reworked third chapter, read it first.**

oOo

Buka ran through the grass, laughing happily. The little cub was chasing after the rabbit she had found, although she knew she would never catch it. She burst into a clearing just in time to see the little fluffy tail bound out of view into the grass on the other side. She ran in after it. The rabbit had disappeared completely.

Buka continued running until she ran smack into a solid object. She fell backwards, then shook her head, trying to clear it. "Ow . . ." She looked up to see two eyes staring down at her. She gasped.

"You should be more careful." Before Buka could react, a paw scooped her up and placed her back in the clearing. She looked up to see that it was a lion. He walked out into the clearing, limping slightly. "What's your name?"

"Buka," she said shyly.

"That's a very pretty name," said the lion with a smile. "I'm Shujaa. Were you having fun?"

"Uh-huh." Her mother had warned her not to talk to strangers, but he seemed nice enough. Besides, it wasn't like he was one of those nasty hyenas her mother had warned her about.

"You want to have some more fun?" asked the lion.

"Sure!"

"Well come on over here," said the lion, walking over to the waterhole. "Here, let me show you . . ."


End file.
